


House of Horrors

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (not really at all actually), (only kind of though), F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Halloween, Horror, also lots of flirting, belated fun, spoiler: LOTS OF HAND HOLDING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This definitely seemed like more and more of a bad idea as the evening progressed, but it was the greatest bad idea she’d ever had. </p><p>Simmons convinces Fitz to explore a haunted house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of Horrors

**Author's Note:**

> The first installment in what I hope will be a series of FitzSimmons one shots and drabbles. A bit of a belated Halloween treat. Enjoy!
> 
> FLUFF IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE but I decided that for these two, I'd give it a go. I hope I did okay in regards to characterization. That's my main concern, really! I get the feeling that Simmons is much more adventurous than Fitz is and I really wanted to write about scaredy-cat!Fitz.
> 
> I do not own any of these characters etc etc etc.

She could feel her partner’s body shift uncomfortably next to her and could tell immediately just how badly he was _itching_ to turn around and try to find the exit. He mumbled something under his breath.

She stifled a giggle. “Behave yourself.”

He rolled his eyes and slightly turned his body towards her, scoffing. “This is _stupid_.”

She smirked and faced forward, ignoring his complaints.

“It’s just – does it not bother you?” He replied, his voice rising a bit. She silenced him with a soft fist to his shoulder, begging him not to cause a ruckus. “We’re paying $25 to walk through a dark building! What sense does that make?! Americans and their traditions.”

“Ah, c’mon, Fitz!” she chuckled, “Where is your sense of adventure? It’s all in good fun!” He let out an annoyed sigh that she chose to ignore. “Why don’t you just admit that you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared,” he muttered as they rounded a corner and continued to walk down a creaky old hallway. The walls were lined with cracked mirrors caked with dust and what they were expected to believe was blood. A door screeched open in the distance and a cool gust of wind blew through the hall. “You know, they probably got half of the things in here from one of those Halloween surplus shops. Everything is so generic and-“ there was another creak, followed by the faint sound of laughter. Fitz tried to sigh and play it off as if he were bored, but Simmons heard the way he caught his breath.

She reached over and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as if reminding him to relax and enjoy himself. He was always difficult when it came to leisure activities outside of the bus (as it was easy to forget what a day off was supposed to be when you make your work your life), but the boy had always been a pretty easy target.

Keeping her hand on his shoulder, she leaned closer towards him. “We should have just gone bowling with the others.”

He turned his face slightly to look at her and shook his head, reassuring her that he was fine.

The hall led into a large room, almost empty except for a long, dark wood table in the center and a flickering candle that appeared to be dying out. The floorboards creaked loudly with every step they took. It was not until they neared the middle of the room that they noticed a black figure sitting in one of the seats, slouched over the table. Fitz’ body tensed as he struggled to keep his composure. The body’s hand reached up, trembling, and fell back onto the table with a thud, dragging its sharp nails across the aged wood. Suddenly, a pair of awful black eyes darted up to greet them, revealing a disfigured face, various burns and streaks of dried blood adding to the terror.

His hand instinctively reached out at once for Simmons’ before his brain could even process what he was doing. “Sorry,” he apologized, letting go of her grasp. “I’ll admit that one did scare me a bit.”

She laughed silently. This definitely seemed like more and more of a bad idea as the evening progressed, but it was one of the greatest bad ideas she’d ever had. Fitz was – well, Fitz. And right then she could not think of anything more amusing (or adorable) than scared Fitz. Still, her conscience was getting the best of her. She knew it wasn’t right to have so much fun at his expense.

They continued through the rest of the house, each room progressively getting more terrifying; a soundtrack of eerie laughs, bloodcurdling screams and the soft playful hum of young children only added to Fitz’ evident growing anxiety. By the time they reached the maze of dead rosebushes just outside the back exit of the building, Simmons had clung herself onto him, her hands wrapped tightly around his left arm.

“Please, don’t patronize me. I _know_ you’re not scared,” he sighed, but reached his other hand over, resting it on the side of her body and pulling her in closer to him. The contact alone was enough to provide some comfort and set him at ease; Simmons could feel almost feel the tension in his shoulders begin to release herself.

Finally, they’d reached the end and found a way out of the maze. They were given free t-shirts as they made their exit, a souvenir announcing their survival of their time in hell.

“Bloody fucking hell, woman,” he groaned as he slipped on the t-shirt over his sweater. A bit snug, but it fit just fine. “Next time we have a day off, we’re going to go to a simple movie or a science exhibit. No more letting you make any decisions, oh no.”

Laughing, Simmons grabbed a hold of Fitz’ arm again, as if it were something completely typical and natural for them to engage in so much physical contact in the span of just a few hours. In fact, with the exception of the time they had fallen asleep back in the lab on the bus, they’d never really touched more than absolutely necessary.

She figured she’d pin the blame on all that adrenaline.

Jemma looked up to study his face as they walked along the darkened road, marveling at the shadows contouring the sharp edges of his face. His skin seemed to glow beneath the streetlights, his eyes still as blue in the dark as they appeared in daylight. He caught her staring and gave her a quizzical look in response.

“Can I help you?” he teased, cocking an eyebrow.

She shrugged one shoulder, shaking her head slowly. “Only if we run into Dracula or something.”

“Shut up,” he laughed loudly, nudging into her side with his hip, throwing her off balance.

“Come on, admit you had fun!”

“Fun. Pffft, yeah. Loved every minute of getting my pants scared off me while you stood there, taking it like a champ.” She laughed. _Hard_. He narrowed his eyes and his hand reached out to find hers. “You are so annoying. I’m going to request a transfer first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, Fitzy. You know you wouldn’t last a day without me.”

“You wouldn’t last an _hour_ without _me_ ,” he responded quickly.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. They continued to walk in silence, as the bus was parked not too far away from the house of horrors they’d just explored.

“Shit. Simms?”

“Yes, Fitz?” “You don’t suppose that, since, you know, _superheroes_ are real and all that… th-that things like vampires and demons and stuff… they could be real also?”

Jemma groaned, facing her head down towards the ground, covering her face with her free hand. “Ugh, _Fiiiitz_!” 


End file.
